


Playing Santa

by katikat



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Episode Related, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Obsession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: Murdoc does not expect to find this little mouse in his trap. Or, Mac gets shot playing Santa, just as Jack predicted. An alternate ending to ep 211. Mac’s POV. (Unbeta'd)





	Playing Santa

Mac decides to give Cage a teddy bear for Christmas. He knows it’s a silly idea - the thing’s huge and fluffy and it has a big red bow tied around its neck - but he thinks it might make Cage smile and that’s what this is about.

And by  _this_ , he means breaking into her apartment and leaving the gift under her Christmas tree, Santa style. Too bad she doesn’t have a chimney. Oh well, the front door will have to suffice, then, what with the security system being nothing more than a small obstacle for someone like him.

A very small obstacle, as it turns out. All he needs to disable it, is a paper clip, a little dexterity and some basic knowledge of how this system works. Hm, maybe he should’ve gotten her a better alarm and not a teddy bear. Alas. He’ll have to remind her to upgrade it first thing after Christmas.

Cage’s out, doing some last minute Christmas shopping, Mac knows. Still, he tiptoes around her apartment like a sneaky thief. He’s already been caught once, playing Santa - by Jack - if it happened again, he would never live it down!

So, he’s carefully shuffling across the open space, holding the teddy in front of him and peaking over its shoulder as not to trip over anything. He’s headed for the Christmas tree with the plan to arrange the toy underneath it, when–

“Well, well,  _well_ , that’s one little mouse I did  _not_ expect to find in this trap!” a mocking voice echoes behind him, from the shadows of the kitchen corner. A voice Mac knows very well.

He whips around, dropping the teddy bear. “Mur–”

A silent  _pop_ whispers through the otherwise quiet apartment and a second later, Mac cries out in pain. Hot waves of agony shoot up and down his right leg and his knee buckles. He hits the floor hard, almost knocking his breath out, and his hands automatically seek out the source of the burning pain: a bullet wound, a mere inch or so away from the scar left behind by his self-inflicted wound from a few weeks ago.

“ _Really_ , MacGyver,” Murdoc sighs, stepping out of the shadows, gun pointed in Mac’s direction. “Not that I’m not glad you got yourself out of those  _ridiculous_ domestic terrorist charges but did you  _have_ to go and ruin my plan?”

Mac rolls onto his side, groaning, and the despite breath-stealing agony, he presses his hands hard against his wound to stop the bleeding. Still, he can feel his hot blood seeping through his tightly squeezed fingers while his toes slowly grow cold. He’s already getting lightheaded and that’s not a good sign.

Murdoc walks up to him, and dropping down into a crouch, he glances at the wound he caused. “That looks bad. But it’s your own fault really. I  _was_ trying just to nick you, you know?” He shakes his head. “Oh, well. Things happen. Besides, you do deserve  _some_ punishment for being where you had no place to be and complicating things for me.” He shakes his finger at Mac. “That’s not nice, you know?”

“What… do you want?” Mac grits out, gasping.

“Not you this time,  _obviously_!” Murdoc rolls his eyes and waves his gun around Cage’s apartment in a very “Duh!” gesture.

“Cage? You were after…  _Cage_?” Mac asks in disbelief.

“Blood loss is really dimming your wits,” Murdoc says. When he continues, he speaks slowly and clearly, “Yes. I was after Ms. Cage. Now, I’ll have to get her some other way. How annoying.

“I mean, I could wait for her here and kill her when she comes back but…” He looks down at Mac’s wound and sighs again. “You would probably bleed out before then. And as much as I want her to die, I want you  _not_ to die more - at least not yet,” he adds reasonably. “To take you out with a bullet would be so… so  _anti-climatic_. Though I  _would_ enjoy watching you bleed out slowly.”

Mac decides to focus on the important part:  _Cage_. “Why? Why her?”

“Hm?” Murdoc raises his eyebrows at him and then he grins. “Oh, isn’t that the question,  _my… little… poppet_?” he replies, tapping Mac on the forehead with the silencer on his gun to the rhythm of his last three words. “Why don’t you ask her when she comes back?”

Blackness is starting to creep up on Mac, blanketing him. He’s cold and he can’t think. He can feel himself starting to shake as the puddle of his blood keeps growing bigger and bigger on the floor around him. He tries to speak but he can’t seem to move his tongue.

Murdoc almost pouts. “You’re no fun when you’re bleeding out, MacGyver. I’ll have to remember that for later.”

Then he goes through Mac’s pockets, searching for his phone - Mac shudders, feeling Murdoc’s hands on him - and when he finds it, he pulls it out and goes through Mac’s contact list.

“Since you already ruined my plans for killing Ms. Cage, let’s use this chance to gather some intel, shall we?” He looks down at Mac with a maniacal gleam in his eyes. “Let’s see how quickly your guard dog will respond to his master in peril…”

Murdoc dials a number and when the person on the other end picks up, he says gleefully, “Guess who, Jackie? Your boy’s bleeding out on the floor of Ms. Cage’s apartment right this second. What will you do about it?”

He drops the phone on the floor - Jack’s voice can be heard calling Mac’s name and cursing a blue streak - then he dips his gloved fingers into Mac’s blood. For a moment, he just stares at its redness in fascination. Then he smiles and slides his fingers down Mac’s cheek to grip his chin, leaving bloody streaks behind.

“See you soon, MacGyver,” Murdoc whispers. “But do  _not_ cross me again.  _This time_ , I’ll forgive you.  _Next time_ , I might not be so lenient.”

With that, he gets up and leaves. Mac loses consciousness before Murdoc can reach the door.

* * *

“I told you that playing Santa would get you shot one day,” Jack points out but there’s very little satisfaction in his voice. He looks rather grim, straddling a chair with his arms crossed on its back and watching Mac in his hospital bed.

“Yes, you told me so.  _Repeatedly_ ,” Mac allows a little hoarsely, staring at the ceiling.

He’s been in the hospital for three days now. Or that’s what they tell him. He doesn’t remember much of the first two. Apparently, he almost bled out before Jack got to him. One surgery and many blood transfusions later, he still feels as weak as a newborn. And he can’t seem to force his hands to stop shaking. It’s the blood loss, nothing else. Just the blood loss…

_This time, I’ll forgive you…_

Mac swallows hard, eyes still trained on the ceiling. “Do we know why he did it?”

Jack lifts his eyebrows. “Why that psycho lurked around Cage’s apartment, planning to kill her?” He shakes his head. “No. Cage’s gone and Matty - who I’m sure knows what’s going on here - isn’t talking. And when I asked, she gave me the  _evil eye_  and told me to mind my own damn business. Well, I  _am_ minding my own damn business.  _You_ are my damn business. My damn business almost  _bled out_  on me, so pardon me if I want some answers!” He ends his annoyed tirade on a huff.

Frowning, Mac turns to look at Jack. “Cage left?”

Jack frowns, too. “ _Yeah_ ,” he drawls. “She was here to say goodbye, don’t you remember?”

Mac remembers…  _something_ , from…  _yesterday_? He remembers Cage in here, in this room. He remembers apologizing to her in a slurred voice. He remembers Cage leaning over him, saying, “I owe you my life…” And then…  _nothing_ , Mac must’ve fallen asleep again.

“I can’t remember pretty much anything from the past two days,” he sighs.

“Yeah, well,” Jack says, “Cage seemed to know what the whole thing was about. She mentioned someone from her past, or something? That she should’ve taken care of that a long time ago?” He waves a hand. “I don’t know, man. I was more concerned with your half-dead ass than her issues in that moment.”

“I hope she’ll be okay,” Mac whispers.

Jack snorts. “The way she looked when she left here? I would be more worried about the other guy.”

Mac  _hmms_ , not as sure about the outcome of that fight as Jack, then he tries to shift into a more comfortable position - only to hiss sharply when the dull pain in his thigh turns into a roaring agony.

“Would you stop squirming like a worm on a hook?” Jack snaps, but it’s not anger driving his temper, it’s concern. “You have two holes too many in you! No need to unplug them again!”

Fisting his hands into his cover, Mac rides out the pain, eyes squeezed shut. When it finally dulls again, he’s sweat soaked and drained, his breath shuddery. He opens his eyes and blinks back tears. And then he notices the pinched look on Jack’s face.

“What?” he rasps.

Jack swallows and shakes his head. “Kid, if that madman was less  _obsessed_ with you, if all he wanted was to  _kill_ you… you would be dead now,” he answers softly. “When I heard his voice on the phone, I was sure that he was calling me to gloat. That I would find you dead.”

“ _Jack_ …” Mac whispers thickly.

“And I thought you  _were_ dead,” Jack continues. “There was so much blood and you were-you were so pale… You  _looked_ dead! It almost killed me.” He rests his forehead against his crossed arms, hiding his face.

“Jack… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

Taking a deep breath, Jack lifts his head again and looks straight at Mac. “I know,” he cuts Mac off. “I know. And it’s not your fault. It’s just…” He pauses and when he continues again, his voice’s hard and sharp. “We need to get that bastard. We have to, Mac. And I don’t care how. You hear me?”

“I hear you,” Mac responds softly. And since he can still feel the tapping of the still warm silencer against his forehead, the grip of Murdoc’s bloody fingers on his chin, he agrees with Jack wholeheartedly. 

Because next time, they might not be so lucky.


End file.
